


A matter of tradition

by mistress_of_shadows



Series: miles/scar shiptober challange [19]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Family Fluff, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, Post-Canon, Winter Time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 14:42:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21210227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistress_of_shadows/pseuds/mistress_of_shadows
Summary: Olivier invites Miles and Scar to spend time in her families winter cabin, not expecting Alex to also be there, but in the cold harsh months it's good to be around family.





	A matter of tradition

I glared out at the snow falling to the ground, even if the house was warmed by the roaring fire in the hearth I did not like the snow. Strong arms wound around my middle, lips on the back of my neck. 

“What are you doing, love? The couch is over there.” Miles asked, leaning against my back. He gave me a squeeze, and started walking me back, away from the window. I smiled at his antics, but let him lead me. 

“I was thinking of how, despite my hatred of the snow, it gave me you.” I turned into Miles arms,

My own hands on his hips, and kissing him firmly. A hint of chocolate and mint on his lips, a taste I chased with my tongue, pressing against his lips and asking for entrance. 

“Oi. Don't get handsy in my living room. That's what you have a bedroom for.” Olivier yelled from the kitchen. Miles broke away from me with a laugh, but I glared at the woman in the doorway. Unaffected by the icy stare she sent me. 

“Sister let them be. Now is a time for happiness and lovers.” Alex said, he insisted on being called by his first name and I wasn’t going to argue with him. Olivier had invited miles and I up to her winter time cabin for the holidays, to take a break in the rebuild efforts of Ishval. I had resisted, for as much progress that had been made in Ishval over the last year, there was always something new to fix, or oversee, or establish. Miles on the other hand had been obstinate that the city would not fall if we took a week to relax.

When the three of us had found Olivier's brother already starting his own vacation, the elder sister had nearly wrecked the house. Miles having to convince her to let him stay, family being important at this time of the year, meant to enjoy them. He’d thrown in a touch of guilt, that not everyone still had all their family to fight with about such small, inconsequential things as who got the winter cabin this year. A dirty tactic that got the siblings to come to an agreement about cohabitating for the week. 

“I don't need them pawing at each other in my house.” Olivier said, turning back to the kitchen. Where her and Alex were making some traditional Amestrian food, saying it was a necessity for the season. I rolled my eyes at the eccentrics of the woman. Taking Miles by the hips I walked him to the couch, pulling him to sit in my lap. I kissed his neck just so I could annoy our host.

“You are incorrigible.” Miles laughed, scolding even as he tilted his head so I could leave marks on the side of his neck. 

“You love it.” I hummed, one hand slipping under his sweater to splay over his stomach, not doing anything more than touching. 

“Ah, love is such a wonderful thing.” Alex yelled, ruining the mood as he burst into the room. I still did not understand how the man sparkled, only keeping his shirt on under threat of being thrown out into the snow. 

“It is. Have you found someone of your own to love yet?” miles smirked, laughing as I tickled his sides for the comment. All of us knowing that the big man had come up here to escape those sorts of questions from other parts of his family. I was happy to have the attention not turn to us, but that didn’t mean Miles had to be harsh about it.

“Not all of us find love so easily.” Alex deflated again. I thought to argue that our love was not all that easy, as our first meeting had been Miles pointing a gun at me. Our second him, demanding I help him while still in bed with injuries. It had been a long road of building trust and friendship to get to where we were now. Alex turned to go back to the kitchen, only to be shooed to a seat as Olivier brought in a platter with round pastries covered in frosting. 

“They're done, and you better enjoy them. It's a recipe passed down through generations of Armstrong's.” Olivier said, a smile softening her words as she set the platter on the table in front of the couch. Alex pulled over a chair while Olivier sat on the floor. None of us having plates or any desire to get them. Miles passed me one of the sweet buns, and it was a challenge to eat without getting frosting on the man in my lap, but I wasn't about to make him move. The sweetness of the topping matching perfectly with the spice of the cinnamon filling, and the flaky, buttery taste of the pastry was perfection. Skill in the kitchen was not something I expected from the short woman, but it would seem she had no shortage of surprises. 

“These are good. Why did you never make them when I was in Briggs.” Miles hummed, licking his fingers as the gooey frosting stuck between his knuckles. 

“I’m not making enough for a whole damn fort, and I didn't need you all either starting riots, or going soft.” Olivier scoffed, finishing off her roll and going for a second. Not caring at all as she scattered flakes, and smudged icing everywhere. 

“My grandmother would make us something similar to this in the summers, but with cumin and honey instead.” I said, miles eyes going wide and inquisitive. His sweet tooth larger than some of the newly built temples. I smiled, deciding that when we got home, I would do what I could to recreate her dish.

Alex was surprisingly quiet as he ate, occasionally wiping crumbles out of his mustache. I tracked his movements as he stood and went to the tree in the corner of the living room, getting a package from under it. This wasn't exactly how we would celebrate the winter solstice in Ishval, but the sentiment was the same no matter how one practiced it. 

“I wasn't expecting there to be more guests, so I only have this one. I wasn’t even sure you would come to the cabin this year, or if I would have to mail you the gift.” Alex said, handing Olivier the package. With a questioning hum the pale woman wiped her hands on her pants, and took the gift with a gentle grip. I expected her to rip off the wrapping, not waste time on the frilly ribbon and such, but was surprised as she carefully untied the bow and popped the seams holding the delicate paper together. Hardly a tear to any of it as she set it to the side. Under the wrapping paper was a wooden box that reveled a ornate knife and cleaning set. 

“Thank you Alex.” Olivier smiled softly as she took out the knife, examining the expertly crafted hilt. It had some sort of scenery on it, I was too far away to make out clearly. Olivier put her knife back in the box, and stood. Getting her packages from the tree. “Here. I brought it with because it was better than leaving it at home.” She handed a package to Alex and one to Miles. I wasn't surprised when she didn't hand a package to me. I didn't have one for her in any matter, Miles had said it would be fine to not. Besides, I thought bringing Miles up here to see his old commander would be gift enough. 

“Thank you Olivier.” miles had finished his sweet, and cleaned his hands before taking the package. Not having the same care for the colorful paper as he ripped it off, revealing a picture of him, Olivier, and another tall broad man I didn't recognize. I could guess that this was buccaneer from the tears forming at the corners of Miles eyes. He wouldn't admit it often, but the loss of his friend had hit him hard. To have a memento of a good memory would certainly be cherished. 

“Yes, this is very thoughtful, sister.” Alex held a new set of pencils and a fresh sketch book. I hadn't known that the man could draw, or that it was something that he was passionate about. He sparkled unnaturally and seemed ready to vibrate out of his shirt. Miles pushed at the hand I still had around his waist, so he could get up and retrieve the presents he had waiting under the tree. The last two sitting there as I'm sure he noticed. 

“Sorry Alex, I didn't know you would be here.” Miles said when he sat back down next to me, having handed Olivier her gift. Now holding mine out to me. I took the box it feeling heavy, but soft. I couldn't tell what it might be. There was no fancy wrapping on the box, just tape to hold it closed, which I easily broke. Gasping at what was in the box. The rich red and deep black of a traditional Ishvalan sash. I reached out for the material with a shaky hand, touching it reverently. Soft but durable, crafted with care and precision just as any sash should be. 

“Miles I can’t.” I swallowed thickly. I so wanted to accept the gift, but I wasn't sure I could. I still had a long road of redemption for what I had done. The death I had spread. 

“I know, but you’ve done so much for your people. They forgave you long ago, it’s time you forgave yourself, and took your place among them.” The room shrunk to being just the two of us, forgetting the others.

Miles wasn't the first to try and offer the article of cloth to me, but it was so important to our people, and I still felt too sinful to wear one again. The sash was a conversation between ourselves and Ishvala. Every day a show that we belonged to him, were his children. The care put into maintaining a sash the love we give to Ishvala. Now, here was miles saying I could call myself a child of Ishvala again, could wear his colors and he would welcome me back.

I stood, taking the sash out of the box and wrapped it around myself. The muscle memory not leaving me after so many years, even if my hands trembled. I reached in my pant pocket and pulled out a small square box, getting down on one knee. It was not how things were done in Ishval, but Miles and I hardly did anything traditionally anyways. He was as much Amestrian as he was Ishvalan, so I had researched how to reach across the difference in culture, and learned his way of doing things the same he did for me. 

“Miles, my love, will you marry me.” I asked. His red eyes, filling with tears as a smile broke over his face. I hadn't exactly planned to do this now, having the ring in my pocket mostly as a preparation should the occasion arise; but with his gift and the insistence of it, I couldn't wait any longer. Wanting to call this man mine in every way possible. 

“Yes. Yes of course.” Miles slid off the couch too tackle me in a hug. I put my arms around him as my heart sung at his acceptance. Not that I had had much doubt about it, our love strong and true from its start. 

“This is so beautiful.” Alex cried, breaking us out of our bubble of bliss. Olivier had gotten an umbrella at some point, and I wasn't sure if she thought it necessary against the big man’s tears or, if she intended to use it to push him out into the snow if she thought he got out of hand. Alex stood to wrap us both in a hug, arms wide open, but Olivier was faster, poking him in the ribs. Giving us a chance to run. I scooped miles up in my arms and went for the stairs, going to our room so we could celebrate the change in our relationship properly. 

**Author's Note:**

> I started this one because I want scar to be mad at the snow, because it's snowing here and I don't like that. Some how I ended up with this. if you like this then tell me what you think in the comments.


End file.
